Back to Bradford Court
by blindcitylights
Summary: A summer of bittersweet reconciliation awaits Claudia, Kristy and Mary Anne  if they are willing to leave behind their resent and embrace again the days of Bradford Court.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _The Baby-Sitters Club_ or any associated intellectual material.

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**Chapter 1**

Emily Michelle drew the letters of the alphabet with sticks of wax crayons on a pile of butcher's paper while I sat behind her, reminding her about the curl on the end of "little y" and the dot over the "little j". We were sprawled in the Thomas-Brewer's large den, our learning materials spread across a rich embroidered Persian rug. I have been tutoring Emily-Michelle for the last three weeks, after her parents realised that she was having trouble yet again keeping up with the private kindergarten course they had enrolled her in.

Kristy had asked me three Mondays ago, her recently grown breasts bobbing conspicuously as she jogged across the hallway to my locker. I had been substantially shocked to see her, and my eyes had wandered from the ceiling to the water fountain as Kristy rushed through her explanation about her sister's need for a tutor. I had waited until she finished talking to look her momentarily in the eye and accept her request. I barely knew who I was talking to, or what I was agreeing to. Relieved, she had punched me in the arm, thanked me and power-walked off towards the cafeteria for lunch. As she blended into the high school crowd I noticed how her curvy figure gave way to a nervous skip in her step.

Evidently, Kristin Amanda Thomas found it difficult to meet old faces with a smooth disposition these days as well.

"Claudia, look!" cried Emily.

I turned from my thoughts to look down at Emily's crowded and very colourful piece of paper. She had drawn a stick figure of what looked like a very tall girl with long linear hair down to her toes. The girl had large brown dots on her face signifying eyes, and, next to the entire composition, Emily had carefully delineated a "K".

"What does the K stand for Em?" I asked.

"It is K for Claudia!" she explained gleefully.

I laughed and reached over to give the cuddly five-year-old a hug. I ruffled her silky black hair and breathed in the comforting smell of Baby Shampoo. I didn't correct her mistake. There would be time for that later, but right now it was important to return some of the vast amount of love this kid had to give.

She giggled and hugged me back, and then went back to her crayons, evidently done with letters and moving on to drawing. After three years Emily-Michelle was still the same responsive and hard-working little girl I had tutored at two years old. Although when I had come back as her tutor three weeks ago, she had barely recognised me. There was no reason for surprise on my part. After all, I hadn't been to the TB mansion since the beginning of ninth grade. In fact, I had been met with quite a few surprised faces when I walked through the gates three weeks ago. I think the family was more uncomfortable with seeing me here without the assurance of being Kristy's friend (she had conveniently been away at a Student Council meeting) than anything else. They weren't sure what balance of familiarity and removed politeness they were supposed to pay me.

I sighed and leaned over Emily's work again. Bringing out some clean sheets of paper I started telling her about how different letters had similar sounds and then wrote some for her. The lesson in phonetics (basic as it was) continued for the next twenty minutes, after which we packed up our materials and made our way to the kitchen.

Mrs Brewer greeted me with her customary smile, the childhood familiarity of which always put me at ease. I went over the day's lesson with her, packed up our things and accepted my very expensive pay check. I kissed Emily-Michele goodbye and she ran upstairs, presumably to play in her specially built toy room. Karen and David Michael ran in to the kitchen, beads of summer sweat running down their faces. As far as I had observed, the step-siblings were fast becoming more and more like twins, playing and communicating in ways the rest of the family had trouble joining in to. Karen with the shining wild blue eyes and mass of blonde hair seemed to these days perfectly compliment her serious dark-eyed and more fragile step-brother.

"Mom, can we have some cranberry juice?" panted David Michael. "Oh, hi Claudia, he added after seeing me. Did Em turn your brains to mush today?"

"I don't know how you can bare to spend more than ten minutes with the girl," whined Karen. "She is so demanding!" Karen embellished her statement with a sweep of her arms and a swish of her messy blond hair.

Mrs Brewer put three cups of cranberry juice on the counter and clucked her disapproving.

I took my glass and grinned. "No I love being with her. You guys can just drop her off at Bradford Court whenever you feel like you've had enough. I wouldn't really mind a little sister."

Karen and David Michael were about to hit back when a short feisty young woman stormed through the back door, and let it slam behind her. Her straightened and streaked brown hair bounced angrily in place along with her ever bopping chest. I stared at her with a certain amount of apprehension and observed how her small brown eyes seemed to be ablaze. She had always been one to command presence and become fiery when things went wrong.

"Hey familia," she growled.

"HI KRISTY!" yelled her siblings, and ran to her, smothering her in what looked like a hug only payed to annoy her further. She embraced them half-heartedly and pushed them away in irritation.

"Aren't you kids a bit old for hugs? …Oh, hi Claud." Immediately her tone lost its strength, and her eyes were reduced to flat brown pools. She smiled weakly.

"Hey, Kristy." My tone of voice didn't provide much more life.

Done with their juice, the kids shouted their goodbyes and ran off into the twilit backyard, where the pink sky illuminated the neighbourhood with a warm mid-summer glow. Elizabeth muttered something and made her exit with a tight smile. Kristy and I were left in her enormous kitchen, clearly having nothing to say to each other. Kristy stood with her back straight and her chin up, a stance that I have thirteen years of experience with.

Her clothes, however, was an entity I was yet to accommodate my mental image of her with. My formerly tomboy-ish, well-on-her-to-way-to-gay buddy was today dressed in a skimpy green tank top which seemed to be toppling over with the weight of her cleavage, and khaki short shorts. She seemed to glow in a perfectly brown tan and curvy, yet defined figure. Like me, she had on ample mascara, eyeliner, blush and lipgloss. Although her stature screamed confidence, I could see that this Kristy Thomas was just as uncomfortable and vulnerable as I was. Burdened with this knowledge, I stared down at the tiled floor and observed both our feet shift uncomfortably.

"Hey Claud, you know I'd love to chat with you, but, as you probably saw when I came in, I'm not in the best mood at the moment. I don't want to be rude – in our situation that would be completely unacceptable," she stammered here, and I looked up, if only to acknowledge her words. She continued. "But I really need to just shut myself in my room for a while. I had some problems with Pete at the Council meeting today."

Surprised the length of what Kristy had just communicated; it took me a while to formulate a reply.

"That's cool Kristy. I don't like, you know… hold anything – "

"You've always been a great person," she interrupted hurriedly.

I nodded without looking up, and grabbing my bag from the coat rack, I sped out the back door. In any other situation leaving without saying goodbye would have been rude, but I knew that Kristy knew exactly what I meant and understood the harm I meant to evade by the fickle gesture.

As I drove back to Bradford Court, the place where the two of us, and Mary Anne, had grown up together – three little girls joined in the silky ropes of childhood memories and bonds –I recalled yet again how fickle a friendship could prove to be, under the weight of maturity.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I spent the last day of junior year cooped up in the art room. I was working on a wall-length oil-on-canvas. It was a work I saw as a raging, intense and indomitable sunset – as if the sun was determined to show the world the beauty of its strength before it disappeared under the horizon. After all, the sun knows very well how many thousands of people and animals will not live to see it again the next day.

There was nobody else in the room, and for six hours I worked in uninterrupted peace. The distant sounds of freshmen and seniors rampaging the hallways and locking up teachers provided a comfortable ambience for me to work in. I thought about all the classes I was missing – English, History and Home Economics. Somehow, I knew that the kids would not miss me. When the final bell rang, my painting was incomplete and so I merely left it standing against the back wall. The Art teachers had given me spare keys to the rooms and storage a long time ago, and I so cleaned up, pulled down the blinds, gathered my supplies and walked out.

By this time, the hallways were all empty – the entire school had no doubt run out in ecstasy as soon as the final bell had rung. As was customary, a mass of papers were strewn all over the floors and the lockers were left swinging open. I made my way through the empty echoing halls until I reached my own locker which was closed. As I approached it, I noticed large orange letters spray-painted across it. _"Go out with me this summer, Claud?"_ it read. My heart skipped a beat as I read down and came to a little scrawled initial at the bottom of the locker, done in crayon. _"LB"_ it read. I rolled my eyes in exasperation and disappointment.

It was only Logan Bruno, the last boy I would ever date. I should have known it would be the former basketballer turned lowly school paper reporter. Despite being almost as low on the social order as me, he was also an arrogant, desperate prick. I did not want to fall into that net again. There was absolutely no way in the world.

I highly doubted that any other boy in the school remembered that I existed. The summer before sophomore year was two years ago, and a lot had happened since then to wash away the loud, neon-lit memories of the then powerful Claudia Kishi. These days I was an outcast – I spent most of my days working in the art rooms or skipping class alone. I was one of those who were seen but never heard, and after a while, stopped being seen as well.

I opened my locker, ready to empty the year's worth of collected academic debris out. A piece of paper fluttered to the floor, and I picked it up carelessly thinking it to be an old stray notification. When I glanced at it though, I was faced with childish and bright handwriting - complete with i's dotted with hearts. For the second time in two minutes, my heart skipped a beat, and I read with hopeful apprehension. _"CK, It's SM here. I'd like to hang out with you this summer and so would MAS. We never see you around anymore? Meet us at either of our homes, or we'll come to Bradford Court? SM"_

My eyes widened, and I wondered what the odds were that this was not a joke. Stacey and Mary Anne had worked hard for the past year to cement their place at SHS as the queen bees of the junior year social hierarchy. Communication of any kind with the likes of Claudia Lynn Kishi was a course of action very unlikely to come with any degree of sincerity. I ran through the various possible horrible things they were planning to do to me over the summer – the torment of a reputationless art geek would be harmless yet hilarious fun for the entire school.

I had been observing the two girls from afar all year. They walked with a mean streak in their stride, and when they smiled their jaw line delineated a tough, smug glare for the acute observer. And their eyes – that was the worse part. Their eyes sparkled with youthful radiance to those who didn't know them, but to someone like me, who knew too many things of their past, that sparkle was a lot more. It was a cruel glint that reflected their cold way of dealing with people, their ease in extracting whatever they wanted from anybody who crossed their paths. It was a glint which had changed them both, and composted all hope I might have been keeping of ever seeing them in their true skins.

That wasn't all. There was so much more, so many more reasons why Stacey and Mary Anne had no business speaking with me. Especially Mary Anne. So many memories we didn't want to have, memories we buried under layers and layers of dust.

And yet, despite all this, I was standing here with an invitation to spend a summer with them.A _summer_.

Before I could contemplate my next course of action, I heard footsteps echo in the adjacent hallway. As the sounds became clearer I leaned over backwards to see who it was that was alone enough like me to still be in the school buildings. To my surprise, the figure that approached was a short, brown-haired girl with a pen behind her ear and a clipboard in her hand.

Despite myself, I murmured "Kristy?"

She froze, realising that it was me speaking. I noticed her hesitate and shift her clipboard to the other hand uncomfortably. She took one step back and turned her head back slightly, but then evidently thought better of it, and straightened up again. I watched as she kept walking towards me. I didn't know whether to smile or wave, and deeply regretted making any noise at all.

Kristy stopped at my locker, and grinned ruefully at the orange graffiti on my open door.

"Logan Bruno, hey? A summer of sophomore-ish highs awaits you, I guess."

I almost slapped myself in front of her for getting myself into this awkward position. Not only would I have to discuss Logan Bruno with Kristy Thomas, but I had just been swiped with a reference to _that_ summer. I closed the locker door firmly and stood with my back to it, trying my best to hide the offending words.

"Ahh, no way. No way, that… that isn't going to happen this summer, Kristy. I'll be dedicating my time to your sister's education and I'll be going to a lot of art classes. I've got a lot planned, but none of, you know - "

For the second time in twenty-fours, Kristy interrupted me. "Sorry Claud, I didn't mean to be nasty about it. It's all in the past, and we've moved on," she smiled tightly, and then started marching off with her clipboard clutched to her chest.

I don't know what came over me, but I grabbed her arm from behind. She turned around in shock and something in her expression hardened.

"What is going on? Why are we even talking?!" she demanded, and yanked my hand off her arm.

I couldn't look up at her. I hugged my arms to my chest and shook my head helplessly.

"I'm sorry. I just – it's so…" I sighed, not knowing what I meant to say to this girl, or why I even wanted to say anything to her. With no other course of action coming to me, I pushed the now crumpled note from Stacey McGill towards her. She looked at it suspiciously, but accepted it and began reading. I dared to look up at her while she read and I observed her expression change from irritation, to surprise to nothing.

When she finished she handed it back to me and shook her head.

"You won't believe this, but I found one too," she conceded, and unclipped a slip of paper identical to mine from her clipboard. "I was finishing up some paperwork for the Student Council so I got out after the last bell. When I went to clean up my locker, it was there, like yours."

I read over her note, and saw that it was exactly the same, bar the names.

She kept speaking, her tone hardened again. "Look Claud, it's great that we've been in contact for the past few weeks, but you know as well as I know – what I mean to say is, you were the one who rushed out yesterday, so clearly – clearly, we've got things between us. Speaking about Stace and Mary Anne is a bit difficult in this situation. We should deal with this separately. Like we have been doing."

"Can we meet sometime this summer?" I suddenly pleaded. "Please, I just need -"

Kristy closed her eyes and took a breath in. When she opened her eyes again, she let it out and shrugged uneasily. "Alright," she reluctantly agreed. "We'll go to the Rosebud after Emily-Michelle's next lesson."

After that communication, we really did have nothing else to say and so we mumbled our half-hearted goodbyes and Kristy left. I watched her become smaller and smaller as she drew near, and went out, the open school doors, and I squinted into the light until she had turned a corner and disappeared.

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding and leant against my locker. I closed my eyes and sank to the floor. I never thought I would ever be hanging out with Kristy Thomas again. For a while I marvelled at my courage, and smiled. Perhaps this summer, things would start changing again. Perhaps this summer, I would finally be able to remove some of the things which I had holding over my chest for the past two years.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Claudia! Please start setting the table. I'll finish up the salad. Afterwards you can go upstairs and get dressed." Mom was calling me from inside the pantry.

Janine was coming back home from Cambridge University in England for a week-long visit tonight. My sister had left for University two years ago, before I began my sophomore year, and we had not seen her since. In celebration we were holding a gourmet family dinner. It was to be executed with the extensive culinary capabilities of my mother and myself. Janine was expected to be paraded through the door by my proud father any minute now, and Mum and I were in a rush to set the table as well as get ready before that happened. I rolled up my sleeves and took out a pile of heavy white plates from the wall cupboard and a handful of cutlery from a drawer. I headed over to the table and set a plate at each place and placed a knife and a fork by each one. I returned to the kitchen to bring out all the dishes, and when I had done that, I dashed into the lounge to retrieve the centrepiece I had created for the occasion.

It was an old sparkly chandelier, from which I had removed the light bulbs. I had glued three large round candles right in the middle. It wasn't avant-garde, but in the recent years, as my spirit had calmed down and the real world had kept me firmly on the ground, I had lost a lot of my former drive for my old art practices.

Despite the momentousness of this family occasion, I was regretting having to cancel my lesson with Emily-Michelle. Not only did I enjoy being with the little girl, but this was also the day I had planned to go out with Kristy. I attempted to push this from my mind though, as I dressed for the dinner. It was a good thing I had missed that rendezvous anyway, I reasoned. There would've been too many things I would have wanted to say but would not have been able to. The air is always thick with static electricity whenever I try to speak to any of my old friends about things that happened "once upon a time". Too much time has passed to bring up anything worth speaking about anymore.

"_Janine!_ Sweetheart, oh, it's so wonderful to have you home! Come and give your mother a hug!"

Mom's excited motherly shriek jostled me from my thoughts, and I rushed to pull on my sparkly purple leggings under my low-neck silk turquoise-coloured mini-dress, before I ran down the stairs to meet my sister. As I hopped down the last three steps, Janine's beaming red face turned to me and she dropped the bags in her hands to come rushing across the hallway. I threw my arms around her and held her close.

"Claudia! How are you? How's school been? What are you working on at the moment? Any plans for summer?" she gushed, as I buried my face in her shoulder.

"I missed you Janine," I mumbled into her pressed shirt.

She smoothed my hair and I let go. My parents beamed and their eyes glistened.

"It's so good to have my two daughters together at home," said Dad. "Now, Janine, you and I will freshen up. I'm sure your mother and sister will want you to come to the dinner straight away."

Janine nodded, and she and Dad made their way upstairs. Mom came over to me and squeezed my shoulders.

"It makes me so happy to see you girls so supportive of each other," she remarked.

'Mom, before Janine left… you remember what happened don't you. Not with Janine, but, with other people. Like Kristy, and her, you know, her real dad… and then me – and all the trouble I got into, with Mary Anne especially. Janine's the only person who stood by me during that time," I sighed and sank into my mother's hold. These days, home was the only place I ever felt secure. Even though Mom and Dad both worked long hours, just being in the abode that belonged to them made me feel like I had a place. That I wasn't invisible, or superfluous.

Mom rubbed my shoulders. "I know you must have many things still left to discuss with your sister. But try to push those melancholy thoughts from your mind now. We are celebrating as a family, and tonight there will be nothing but smiles."

Heeding Mom's advice, I spent the rest of the evening smiling and laughing along with my parents and sister, and feeling truly comfortable for the first time in a long time. Near the end of dinner, after Dad had had two glasses of wine, he addressed me. "Enough about Janine," he laughed. "We've heard about England and damn near run it dry. Claudia, how about you? How has school been? Your friends – I haven't seen them in a long time. Especially the two children who live across the street. You should invite them over – I want to see how much they've grown. Ahh, my daughters, time speeds by you so quickly."

I assured him that Kristy and Mary Anne were fine, but that they did not live on Bradford Court anymore. He nodded in apparent comprehension after his third glass of liquor. Not long after, we ended the dinner and began to clean up after ourselves. Dad retired to his study, and I convinced Mom to do the same. In the kitchen, Janine and I quietly transferred left-overs into Tupperware, scraped food scraps into the trashcan and loaded the dishes into the dish washer. Occasionally we smiled at each other, but for the most part we worked in a comfortable, resigned silence.

It was not until I had gotten ready for bed, and was in my blue satin nighties, that Janine padded into my room and cleared a space for herself on my bed. I stood at my mirror brushing my hair while Janine looked around and re-familiarised herself with my room. Had Janine walked into my room four years ago, I would have groaned inwardly and willed her to leave immediately, in fear that she would ask me to choose between five equally boring plaid skirts to wear to a physics forum the next morning, or something of that sort.

Janine and I used to be destined to become estranged.

She leaned over to my bed-side mantle and picked up a framed photo of myself and my friends, on the last day of ninth grade. Kristy, Mary Anne, Stacey and I were huddled together laughing hysterically. We had cream in our stringy dishevelled hair; paint splashed across our entire bodies; and our clothes were drenched in water, juice and god-knows-what else. I had my arms around Kristy and Mary Anne while Stacey stood in a provocative pose in front of us.

As far I can remember, that was the last time the four of us ever stood in unison like that. That was the last time we ever embraced each other in a group hug, and saw ourselves as a insurmountable group of friends. It was the last time I truly, innocently believed that our friendship was strong enough to last forever.

I tied my hair in a loose ponytail and joined my sister on my bed.

"So Claudia, how's your life been since that fateful summer I saw you last?" she inquired with rueful smile.

That was a question nobody had asked me in the last two years, and yet it was a question so central to the person I had become, and the turn my life had taken, that I yearned to be asked it by somebody every single day. I felt that if only somebody would acknowledge that period as the turning point in my life, I might feel a sense of closure. Now that my sister had finally put the question to me, I didn't know where to begin. But I knew that I had to start talking as soon as possible. My sister was the only person in the world who I could speak to about my life because of the part she had played in my affairs that summer.

"Well for a start, I can tell you that I've never spoken a word to Mary Anne Spier ever since. Kristy's never been the same either, and I guess it was too painful for her to be friends with me anymore after all that I knew about her family. I think I started changing for the worse too, and so Stacey slowly left my side to find. That's pretty much how it begun… Janine, it's been two fucking years," I told her. "But the amount of time past has done nothing to heal any wounds. We just kept hiding and hiding and running further and further away from it all, until one day it became "the past" and that was that. There isn't a single issue that's been resolved."

A tear slid down my cheek and I didn't wipe it away. It deserved to be there. I suddenly felt very sad, and curled up into a ball. I laid my cheek on my knees and rocked gently back and forth.

"Nothing's been resolved?" asked Janine. "Not even your stint with that boy Logan? Surely Mary Anne's forgiven you about it."

"Oh I'm sure she has actually. But my little sinful trip with him wasn't the big deal. It was what happened after. You know, how Logan and I forced Austin Bentley - he was her boyfriend at the time - into a game of Truth or Dare when he was drunk? And then we just kept on daring him…" my voice shook and I felt a lump in my throat. I swallowed it and kept talking, letting the events of that night come flooding back to me. "We just kept on daring, daring… drink Austin, keep drinking, drink - those were the dares. And then, then he was off his head, remember? I laughed and laughed, laughed like a maniac. Mary Anne was crying, she was so scared of alcohol back then, but I just laughed, I kept laughing… and then -"

I stopped talking. I had spent two years erasing what happened after that game from my mind. I set my mouth in a firm line and looked resolutely ahead. I would not let the memories of that night back into my mind. I could not revisit that night. Ever.

Janine didn't press me any further. She hugged me and got up, and told me that she would be here whenever I felt like talking again. She left the room and I fell back into bed, letting the tears I had been holding back fall out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Claudia!" squealed Emily-Michelle, as she scampered across the smooth white tiles of the Thomas-Brewer's front hall. I bent down to hug her and she stretched her small arms around my jeans. The warmth and softness of her woollen sweater was comforting.

I heard stronger brisk footsteps come down the hallway and looked up to see Kristy smiling tightly over at us. She was wearing a tiny blue t-shirt with the words "Buck Fush" emblazoned across her huge chest; over her now trademark short shorts.

"Emily has a slight fever Claud, and you might catch it so you don't have to take her lesson tonight," she informed me.

This was a setback. I did not want to come down with a fever while Janine was in the country, but I also wanted to hold Emily-Michelle's lesson so that I could seize Kristy afterwards. I was not sure what I would be seizing her about though. I thought fast – I needed a plan to stay in the TB mansion longer.

Much to my relief, formulating a plan wasn't necessary, because Watson ambled in through the front door at that very moment, smartly dressed in a black suit and grey-striped tie. When he saw me standing in the hallway, he stopped short and looked slightly pained, but recovered quickly. He extended his arm out to me.

"Claudia! I didn't think you'd come with Emily being a bit sick and all! Never mind, why don't you…err... stay for dinner then?" he blustered. He bent down to greet Emily-Michelle who had now attached herself to his pants.

Kristy appeared taken aback, and when I looked away from her I was sure she was shooting signs at Watson to reverse his suggestion. I was rather perplexed myself. I wondered whether Watson had forgotten his last words to me two years ago, and the situation in which we had been. Despite my thoughts, I smiled nonchalantly and smoothed down my long black hair. When I turned back to Kristy she had one finger raised in the air, but dropped it as soon as she met my gaze.

"Yeah, Claud – we'd be honoured to have you for dinner. It'd be a real treat," she said in her best smooth Student Council president voice.

I thanked her, and watched as Watson strode upstairs in a bit of a rush, calling out to Mrs Brewer and the kids. I was almost too scared to look back at Kristy, who was now obliged to entertain me for the next one hour before dinner.

This was a rather unorthodox time to have scheduled kindergarten tutoring lessons – but then again, the Thomas-Brewers are unorthodox in more ways than ten. All my lessons with Emily-Michelle so far had been held at a different time and a different day. I knew Kristy was mentally making a note never to schedule a lesson at this time again.

"Right well, let's go out into the yard," Kristy spoke up. "Karen and David-Michael are there playing with Shannon."

I followed hurriedly after Kristy's long, purposeful strides towards the back of the house. Once there, she plopped down onto the porch and slipped out of her flip-flops. I hung back against the brick wall of the house and observed the glowing East-Coast sun, which always seemed to be so fierce at this time of the year. My old friend Dawn had always complained about the weakness of our summer sunshine, but I saw no basis for her criticism today. Kristy began yelling out orders of some kind to the kids, and I felt a pang of nostalgia. I recalled coming out here in seventh and eighth grade and plopping down shoulder-to-shoulder with Kristy. I remembered running after the younger kids while Kristy gathered David-Michael and his friends to throw around a baseball. I remembered just how natural that had felt, frolicking around a childhood friend's yard like it was my own.

Feeling rather brave, I cautiously sat down next to Kristy, keeping a reasonable distance between us. I glanced at her sideways, shielding my eyes from the sun. And then I said something very foolish.

"How are the Krushers going?"

She froze. Her shoulders tensed and her mouth formed a small o.

I groaned inwardly and threw my head back in disgust. How could have I said that? How could I have forgotten? Kristy did not play sports anymore.

I did not have a clue what to say in apology, to make up for my insensitivity. After all, I had known the exact moment she had lost her passion. I was _there_ on that very _day_, right next to her as she coldly extinguished fourteen years of dreams. Before I could recover myself, Kristy got up and stormed off across the yard. I leaped up and ran after her.

"Kristy! Kristy! I'm so sorry, I was so stupid! It completely slipped my mind… I don't know what came over me," I called helplessly, my voice faltering. She sped up and disappeared behind a bush, as I whispered "I was kind of thinking we were in the BSC again."

When I found her, she was lying on the grass, facing up to the sky, with an arm over her eyes. I noticed her cheeks gleaming with the tracks of tears. I sat down next to her.

"Why are you following me, Claud? Every time you turn up - I remember… I remember those days," she sort of whimpered.

I felt awful, and I thought about saying sorry and walking out. After all, what right did I have, forcing Kristy Thomas and myself onto the same path when it hurt her so much?

But I stayed right where I was, because even if Kristy didn't want it, I needed to be here. I needed to sort out some stuff. Well actually, a lot of stuff.

"Kristy… your dad -" I began.

She clutched my arm and her nails dug into my skin. "Don't mention my Dad, Claud, please," she sobbed.

"But you need to go over this. It's been two years, Kristy, and you haven't done anything to help yourself. You can't hide from it forever – look what happened to you when I mentioned the Krushers," I coaxed.

Kristy's sobs became audible, and I felt my heart sink. She made no reply, and I took it as leeway to keep talking, feeling as if I was somebody else.

"The summer in which your dad came back for the second time, you – well, we, I should say – discovered some things," my voice seemed to be speaking of its own accord. I had no idea where I had suddenly re-found this amount of forwardness, after hiding for two years. Kristy made no indication that she had heard but I noticed her arm muscles tense up.

"And Kristy, this wouldn't be my responsibility to bring up again, if I hadn't been there and seen the moment you changed forever. I'm sure you're sorry that I was there, and you would have preferred it to be a secret that not another soul ever found out."

"Please Claudia, please," begged Kristy. But I was on a role. It seemed as if all that secret-keeping for two years, all that hiding, trying to forget, had finally caught up with me. I had let the balloon open only a small slit, but all the air was pushing to get out with too much force for me to control.

"It's great that you're Student Council President, and sub-editor of the newspaper and a hundred other leadership things, Kristy. I'm glad that you're such a success. But success doesn't mean happiness, and I think you've found that out. No matter how many things you throw yourself into, you can't run away from the secrets inside you. They will always be there."

At this point she sat up, and faced me, her brown eyes defeated. She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes, in an attempt to remove the tearstains.

"I can't deal with this today Claudia," she whispered. "Not today, not now. If you just want to have a friend to hang out with over the summer, then maybe we can do that. I'll hang out with you… you've - you've always been a great girl. I've even missed you the last few years. But don't bring this up – please."

"But don't you realise!" I pleaded. "We can't achieve anything when we've got all this stuff buried inside."

Kristy looked away, turning her head towards Karen and David Michael, who were huddled together under a large elm tree, having a serious discussion. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and flicked it open.

"I've still got Mary Anne's number," she murmured, without turning her head back. "If you want, I'll call her and accept their invitation to hang out."

I hesitated. I didn't trust Mary Anne, or Stacey to be perfectly harmless towards us. They had power now, and they could use it in any way. I had thought it over and decided that now was their perfect opportunity, well, _Mary Anne's_ perfect opportunity, to get me back in extraordinary ways for what I did to her.

I was also frustrated that Kristy had so abruptly changed the subject. I had appealed to her in such earnest, and she had thrown the gesture back to me without recognition. Reflecting my current state of confusion, I shrugged my shoulders in a non-committal fashion. Kristy took this as a yes and began scrolling through her phone, murmuring names as she did. Her tears were dried by the sun and she had resumed a sitting stance which made her look much more like the gathered-together person she always tried to be. Kristy was always good at concealing her emotions quickly.

She put the phone to her ear, and after a short interval, spoke.

"Err, hi, Mary Anne?" she asked.

After a pause, she grimaced into what remotely resembled a smile and said "Yes, I am totally fabulous as well, thanks. Summer's going well… uhh yes, lots of people… right back atcha darling…"

I imagined Mary Anne's reconfigured high-pitched and very strong voice, speaking in the New Yorker sleek tone that Stacey had taught her.

"Listen, Stacey left a note in my locker about hanging out. She left one in Claudia's locker too apparently… uh, yeah I saw her cleaning up after the last bell… mmm, yeah she's fabulous. So I was thinking, when did you guys want to meet?... Oh okay, well you do that and then call me back afterwards, hey? K'bye."

Kristy snapped her phone shut and dropped it onto the grass, where it reflected a sudden ray of light back into my face. I shielded my face with an arm.

"Well, what's going on?" I asked, rather nervously.

"She's calling Stacey, and then she'll call us back in a minute. Geesh, that girl is a lot to handle. She keeps using these awful words and speaking as if she's on a kitchen towel advertisement."

I didn't answer. I was starting to feel more and more apprehensive about meeting Mary Anne Spier. It was starting to dawn on me that she had become everything I had not. I had been on that very track to high school fame. There was no need to discuss this with Kristy though, with whom, I suddenly remembered, I was not exactly friends.

The phone blasted out "Eye of the Tiger" and Kristy dove to pick up. I looked at her sceptically, and wondered why that was her chosen ring tone. After all, she had given up on sport, and was certainly was taking no measures to persevere and work hard, and defy defeat.

"Hi Mary Anne?... Oh - hey, Stacey. Yeah awesome to talk to you again too. Tomorrow? At Mary Anne's house… What time… okay, we'll be there at eight o'clock on the dot. Sure, sure don't worry we'll dress up fine. Yeah I will, yeah she's fabulous. Alright, bye."

She snapped the phone shut once again, and finally looked over at me.

"Stacey and Mary Anne are holding a party at Mary Anne's house tomorrow night. We're invited."


	5. Chapter 5

I am reposting this chapter in the hope of a handful of reviews. To be honest, writers really have little drive to keep writing if their work isn't being appreciated. I haven't even found the motivation to begin the next chapter yet unfortunately. Thank you so much to those who have reviewed my earlier chapters - I appreciate it more than you can know!

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Chapter 5

Janine stood at my bedroom door and peered around thoughtfully as I desperately pulled hanger after hanger of clothes out of my closet. I was aware of a small hill of clothing rising steadily at my feet.

"Claudia, I think you've got more than enough clothing there to last you the evening," Janine pointed out.

I backed out of my closet and hastily pushed the hair off my face. "Janine, I am going to Mary Anne Spier's first summer party. The entire school will be there," I replied testily, failing to sound as if I had more intelligence than a freshman.

Janine mumbled some kind of warning which failed to reach my ears, and walked off, closing the door behind her.

As soon as she had disappeared, the phone rang. I reached across my bed and picked it up.

"Claud, I'm coming over now, alright. Try to be ready by the time I arrive," Kristy instructed, before I had even said hello. Memories of the old, bossy Kristy Thomas momentarily floated to the front of my mind, but I pushed them away before I replied.

"Okay, I'll see you soon."

I felt a tingle in my spine and something flutter briefly in my stomach, and realised that I was excited. I had a companion tonight.

This didn't last long, as a state of panic abruptly took me over. I dropped the phone nowhere near its cradle and jumped into the sea of clothes. I dug through the pile before I pulled out a blue chiffon dress and unearthed a golden sari-trim belt. Satisfied, I pulled out off the clothes on my back and wriggled into the dress. Standing up and moving to the mirror, I observed that the low scoop-neck showed off my cleavage nicely, and the mid-length skirt did not expose too much of my legs. I tied the belt under my breasts and brushed my long hair until it shone.

I certainly looked ready to face Stoneybrook High School.

I did not, however, feel at all ready. I had spent all last night tossing and turning in bed - various images of Mary Anne slapping me, pouring vodka over my hair and throwing me onto the sidewalk had repeatedly flashed through my mind before I had fallen into a weak slumber. I had not been to a high school party since ninth grade, and had subsequently lost all my former confidence. It was not that I hadn't been invited - in fact, I had received many invitations for most of tenth grade – it was just that by that time, I had just lost all desire to go. After a while, people at school realised that I was no longer cool, and they stopped inviting me.

The last party I ever went to was one to which I walked in with Mary Anne and walked out alone.

This thought subdued me seriously for a while, and I lay back on my bed wishing I could curl up and hide. Maybe when Kristy arrived she wouldn't be able to find me, and so she'd leave me here in safety. More than once I reached over to my phone with the intention of calling her to cancel, but each time, I gritted my teeth and pulled my arm back. I held back with the conviction that this was probably the last party I'd be invited to in my remaining high school life, and so I should go, if only for the sake of acting normal.

The door flung open and Kristy ambled in, pulling me away from my thoughts. I looked across to see her in a small white t-shirt and a pair of purple 80s-esque hot pants with the attached bib. Bless her; the girl had evidently killed one habit by creating another – she had swapped boring middle-school jeans for sexy high-school short shorts.

She grinned over at me, and mumbled a hello which I returned uneasily as I got off the bed. The conversation from yesterday had still not left my mind, and I couldn't act as if it had.

I also knew that it was very difficult for Kristy to be in my bedroom – the room in which all meetings of the BSC had been held for two years. Even after the BSC broke up, my room had remained a weekly hang-out spot where the four of us first and last members, would congregate. We gathered here because that's what we had always done, and that's what had felt most natural. It was difficult, I knew, for all of us, when we quite suddenly stopped our routine forever.

"Who's driving? Do you think we need a designated driver?" Kristy asked.

"You can drink tonight if you want Kristy, but umm… I don't do that… anymore. I'll be the designated driver, I don't mind at all," I offered, looking down at my hands.

Kristy seemed to agree whole-heartedly with this suggestion, and I wondered why she was so keen on the idea of alcohol. The last time I had been at a party with her, she had barely had a single glass.

I stopped worrying, however, when she offered me the keys to her car – an honest-to-goodness BMW. I was only too happy to accept, and it was in a state of awe that I drove over to Mary Anne's house, two streets down.

When her house came looming into view, my sense of dread from last night returned. For one moment I considered asking Kristy whether she could possibly stick with me the entire night, but I dismissed the thought. I would come across incredibly clingy, and I somehow knew that the last thing Kristy wanted was a clingy Claudia. I had a feeling that she had come to this party to escape a lot of things, and I was a constant reminder of those things.

I parked two blocks down from the house because the street was already beginning to crowd with cars. Even from here I could see kids milling around the front porch and hear dance music shaking up the street. I wondered where Mary Anne's dad and step mom were.

"Er, Claudia is anything wrong?" Kristy inquired rather warily, as we walked towards the house.

I shook my head vigorously. "No, no. Of course not Kristy, I'm actually very excited about this party!" I replied, trying my best to sound perky.

She nodded, looking straight ahead. As we drew closer and closer to the house, I noticed a thin, small figure with brown hair, in a dainty white dress. I now wanted more than anything to run back the other way, as I realised that Mary Anne Spier was actually standing on the driveway and greeting everybody that arrived. I had not prepared myself for a meeting.

"Hi Mary Anne! How's it going?" Kristy greeted her, in that smooth president voice of hers.

Mary Anne had her straight brown hair pulled up in a high ponytail and her cotton dress showed off her slim legs. She stood with her chin up and her brown eyes glowed. I felt myself shrink behind Kristy.

But Mary Anne smiled her familiar sweet smile, and her entire face softened. "Hi Kristy, it's so great to see you again," she replied in earnest. She leaned to give Kristy a small hug.

I was gob smacked. Why wasn't she speaking in that superior New-Yorker-sleek tone? Why wasn't she looking at us with that piercing gaze she uses in the hallways? I couldn't see the smug glint in her eyes anywhere. This made me feel even more nervous than I would've felt if she had actually done those things.

As she let go, she looked over at me and her smile tightened a little.

"Claud," she half-whispered. Tears begin to well up in her eyes, but she held them back. I felt my knees falter.

"Hi Mary Anne."

It was extremely difficult for me to look straight at her, and my eyes wandered from her house to the tree to the electricity wires above, just as they had when Kristy had first re-spoken to me.

She didn't offer me a hug, or even any further words, but I was not surprised. It was a miracle that she had she spoken to me at all, and I wondered whether I was dreaming. I stood, shifting nervously from foot to foot, apprehending that in any moment, she would shriek in rage and smash a plate over my head.

Mary Anne turned her attention to Kristy, but spoke to the both of us, in a now stronger and more confident voice. "It's great to see you guys. Come on, the party has begun in the backyard, we'll move into the house soon. Have some refreshments. Come find me if you need anything."

She led the both of us along the side of her house until we reached the backyard, which was densely populated with what looked like every single kid in our grade. I looked around the crowd and determined that I knew the name and face of everybody present. Whether they all knew me – because it was highly likely that they had forgotten – was another matter. Mary Anne flashed another soft smile our way before she went back to the driveway.

Before either Kristy or I could move any further, we noticed a tall, thin blonde girl with a self-assured walk coming our way. Stacey was walking with that mean streak in her stride which I had noticed in the school hallways.

When she reached us though, her face was reasonably friendly. "Hey sweethearts," she addressed us briskly, a conscious superiority in her tone. "I didn't think you guys would come, and especially not together.'

Stacey's greeting was just as surprising to me as Mary Anne's. I had not been expecting anything but hostility from the both of them.

Kristy replied with a wry grin. "Why on earth would we miss this?"

Stacey sort of shrugged, but then switched her gaze to me. "I love your dress Claud. Your style's changed quite a lot over the years, hasn't it? It's tamed down a lot."

"Along with my spirit."

The words flew out of my mouth before I even knew I was saying them. I groaned inwardly, but I kept my cool and attempted to smile brightly as if I didn't really mean anything by them.

Stacey's eyes flickered in confusion, but she smiled right back and nodded. "We know how it is - times change, people change. It's all for the better really."

Both Kristy and I nodded vigorously, and Kristy offered light-hearted words of agreement. Stacey thanked us for coming, told us to holler if we needed anything, and sauntered back into the crowd, mingling with ease. I felt a pang of jealousy as I watched her.

"Want to get something to drink?" Kristy asked me, but I noticed that her eyes were wandering around the backyard as if searching for somebody.

"Sure."

We started heading to the refreshments table, manoeuvring through the crowd. I passed many kids I recognised from school, and Kristy greeted what seemed like the majority of them. Of course I was not surprised. Kristy had always found it easy to socialise. Losing her group of friends before tenth grade would have been a wound that she had healed herself with a fierce determination.

When we reached the table, Kristy immediately spotted someone she knew and ran to him. I peered over and realised that it was Pete Black. She now had her arms around him and he was rubbing her back affectionately. He kissed her on the nose, and she laughed. This _was_ a bit of a surprise – I hadn't expected Kristy to be going out with someone! Selfish as it was, I immediately felt disappointed, realising that with her boyfriend here at the party, Kristy would be leaving me alone without doubt.

"Claud, Pete and I are going to inside alright? I'll meet you out the front at around… eleven?" she called out to me on cue.

"Sure, Kristy that sounds fine. Just don't drink too much, okay?" I called back.

Pete grinned mischievously and he replied for her. "Don't worry Claudia, I'll look after her."

I nodded at them, and turned to the drinks. As I was pouring myself a cup of coke, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Expecting it to be someone who needed a drink, I moved aside to give them way. But as I was turning, I saw who it was and dropped my cup in shock. The cold drink splashed across my feet.

Before I knew what was happening, Logan Bruno had leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine.

Suddenly furious, I shoved him off me and kicked him in the shin. "How dare you do that, you fucking sleaze!" I screamed.

Logan looked taken aback at first, but then anger rose in his face and he tried to kiss me again.

"GET LOST!" I shrieked, uncontrollable anger rising rapidly in my throat. I shoved him back again, this time right onto the drinks table. About twenty cups of fizzy drinks jerked and slid off, toppling to the grass.

"Claudia, what is your problem?" Logan growled.

"You know very well what my problem is!' I continued shrieking. "I told you two years ago that I never want to see you again!"

I stood there heaving in anger, and breathing deeply. By this time, a small crowd was gathering around us. Many of them were snickering in glee, clearly recalling some very similar events two summers ago. I saw Mary Anne elbowing through it, and I shrunk back in shame. She stomped over to us, and grabbed Logan by the collar.

"You were not invited," she hissed. "Leave."

He started to protest, and she raised her voice. "Stacey! Have you got 911 ready to call?"

Stacey yelled out in agreement. Mary Anne continued in a smooth, even tone. "We'll simply pack away the alcoholic drinks before they arrive, Logan. Leave now or I'm calling the police. I want no problems tonight."

I stood in awe as Mary Anne let go of his collar, and Logan obediently walked out of the party. He yelled various explicit insults back at us. I had a feeling most of them were aimed at me. Once he was gone, Stacey started breaking up the crowd and worked busily to smooth over the situation.

Mary Anne turned to me. Her eyes narrowed, and I saw the angry, unforgiving fire in them. This was the girl I had been expecting to encounter all night.

"I did that to save myself, Claudia. I did not do that to help you," she told me, her voice even and cold. "I haven't forgotten what you did to me that night. I don't think I'll ever forget it. You were meant to protect me. But you left. After _you did all the damage_. But I need to move on. The bruises have healed and I've finished with therapy. I've realised that the last step is to forgive you."


	6. Chapter 6

I have now enabled anonymous reviews. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and apologies for sounding conceited earlier.

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**Chapter 6**

I stood there, shaking under the controlled fury of Mary Anne's words. Her face was contorted with the strain of bitter memories, and yet she still looked as poised as she did in the hallways at school. By now Stacey had given up trying to shoo away the crowd of kids, and about fifty people had formed a semi-circle around Mary Anne, myself and the drinks table. Girls were whispering to each other, recalling, I imagined, the long-forgotten details behind this showdown; and boys were standing with their mouths hanging slightly open.

May Anne's piercing gaze did not relent. I stayed frozen in place, not daring to breathe.

She spoke again, and I sucked my breath in, in fright.

"So, Claudia Lynn Kishi, I forgive you. I forgive you for stumbling out drunk with my boyfriend after fighting with your own. I forgive you for leaving me with Logan Bruno. I forgive you for leaving me to be beaten up by him, for leaving me to receive the rage that was meant for you. I forgive you for leaving me to be thrown against the gravel, beaten across the face and bruised all over my breasts. I fucking forgive you."

With that, Mary Anne collapsed to the floor and lost consciousness

I heard people in the crowd gasp loudly and some people even screamed in fright. Stacey came rushing through, arms flailing, yelling desperate, muddled instructions to everybody she passed. Suddenly the kids broke apart and began moving hastily around the yard and into the house. Everything became a spinning, whirling mess.

I didn't know what to do.

I clutched the table behind me and sank into it. I closed my eyes to block out all the people that were gathered around Mary Anne. They were trying to bring her back to us. Just like the police tried to bring her back two years ago.

I heard my name being called, yelled, spat out in disgust.

I didn't move.

Mary Anne Spier had forgiven me.

Her words were replaying in my mind over and over again, each time playing faster and faster, until they became an incomprehensible repeated noise, a broken record. Her words spun around and around, and then the pictures appeared - faded, broken images of a swarming house and sweaty night.

I saw empty bottles of vodka rolling on the stained rug; I saw them being thrown against the wall and shattering into ugly, sharp brown pieces. I saw Austin Bentley, his shirt lost, drinking bottle after bottle and throwing them up into the air in glee. I heard the noises – laughter, so much uncontrollable laughter, bubbling up from all around me and leaping out in hysterical, wrenching shrieks. The laughter bounded around the room, screaming off the walls and filling up the space, seeming to suffocate us by going up our lungs. And then, faintly, I heard Mary Anne's quiet, helpless sobs. But I couldn't see her. Her sobs were muffled, covered up, ignored; by the shrieks, the pounding of fists, the testosterone whistles, the breaking of glass.

Someone shook me by the shoulders, and my eyes flew open in shock. Slowly those old images retreated once again to the buried folds in my mind, as two enraged brown eyes came into view.

"Claudia, what the fuck is going on?! Mary Anne's lying practically dead on the floor and all these kids are screaming that you killed her!" hissed Kristy. She had firmly taken control of my body and was slowly manoeuvring us to a place further away from the commotion.

I didn't answer her.

"Claud!" Kristy hissed again, more urgently this time. "What the hell just happened? Why did you hurt her? Mary Anne grew up with you remember? She never left your freaking side."

I wasn't sure whether she meant today or two years ago. By this time we were safely behind the rebuilt barn, and Kristy propped me up awkwardly against the dusty warm brick wall. All the kids were hidden from view and so I stared out listlessly at the backs of houses and into other people's backyards. In the middle of my mind somewhere, I registered the lanky figure of Haley Braddock creeping around a stranger's backyard. What was she doing?

"Look Miss Kishi, I left what was going to be some pretty darn hot stuff with Pete just to come and help you," cried Kristy, flailing her arms in the air. She then positioned them squarely on her hips and glared at me.

"I don't know why I did it though – maybe it's because you've got my car keys, or maybe it's because I've never forgotten my Bradford Court childhood. Whatever it is, I'm thinking I made a mistake, and maybe I have no business hanging out with you right now."

"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry Kristy," I stammered, slowly trying to pull together all my relevant thoughts and form them into words.

I pushed myself off against the wall, and tried to look her in the eyes. I felt a chill in the air despite the humid weather, and wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing my fingers against the soft chiffon of my dress. I took a deep breath. I guessed it was time to tell it or nothing.

"I'm not positive if you know everything Kristy… you know, about that summer. But… that party at Shawna Riverson's, around mid Ausgust-ish? You didn't go because… well, because of… your-"

"Yes all right, I remember the party," Kristy cut me off quickly, looking frustrated.

"Umm yeah, so, it was only Mary Anne and I who went. I had such a tough time talking her into it, because remember that Stacey went to New York for the last few weeks of that vacation? She was the one who was any good at persuasion back then," I continued, almost whispering. I could feel my voice shaking. "But yeah, so anyway, I talked her into it, and Austin helped because they had just begun going out. And so the both of us went, with Austin and Logan."

Kristy had taken up a position leaning against the wall next to me.

"Yeah, I've heard various versions of this story. Logan Bruno, Austin Bentley and Claudia Kishi – the three that would never be the same again, yeah? I heard it from so many people during sophomore year… when I was, you know… trying to make new friends and stuff," she replied. "Austin and you drunk, Logan crazy, Mary Anne beaten up to a pulp on the side of the road…"

A tear slid down my cheek, and a gulp formed in my throat.

"Kristy, don't… say it like that," I whispered.

Kristy suddenly tensed up and she moved off the wall. I saw her shoulders broaden and her fists clench.

"Why shouldn't I say it like that Claud?!" she yelled. "Because it hurts you? It makes you cry? Because you feel like a bitch?"

I buried my face in my hands, and the tears came tumbling out.

"I didn't mean to do it Kristy!" I cried, looking up at her. "Please! You have to believe me! I didn't want to hurt her! She was my friend! My friend ever since before I can even remember…"

I sobbed uncontrollably, and sank to the ground. I looked up helplessly to the sky and heaved in despair.

Kristy didn't move. She glowered down at me with her arms folded across her chest.

"She was my friend since before I could remember too. I didn't leave her to be practically killed on the side of the road! She could have been raped, or run over, or - or… or freaking she could have died of fright!" spluttered Kristy in confused rage.

I sobbed again, and buried my head in my knees, hugging myself into a tight ball. I continued crying in helpless regret, of times and sins past. I heard Kristy huff in frustration and stomp away. I didn't move.

After a little while, I peered up again, and saw that Kristy was only a little distance away, towards the neighbour's backyard. Reluctantly, I wiped my face with the hem of my dress, and pushed myself up off the ground. I ran over to her.

"Kristy?"

Kristy turned around, and to my shock, I saw that her face was stained with tears as well.

"Oh Kristy, I'm so evil – I'm so, so sorry. I've done such shit to everybody," I sobbed again. "Please, Kristy, please.."

Kristy sobbed as well, and then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. I gasped in surprise, but I was so grateful for the gesture that I hugged her back tightly, and buried my head into her shoulder. I breathed in deeply, and held on to her tightly. Together, the two of us stood there, crying. Crying for our friend Mary Anne, who had been through so much pain. Crying for ourselves, and our lives that had become so empty.

But most of all, we cried for our friendship – the friendship that had been forged on the green backyards of Bradford Court, by little girls in nappies and frilly bathers seventeen years ago. The friendship that had lasted almost fifteen years, only to be ripped apart in a swarming, alcohol-filled house on a sweaty, intoxicated night; by big girls in skimpy tops.

I don't know how long I stood there holding onto my old friend and grieving over all these miseries. After a long time, when the sun had set and the sky had become a dark indigo; somebody tapped me on the shoulder. I pulled my head off Kristy and I let go. Kristy did the same and we both stepped back, our tear-stained, red-eyed faces almost identical.

"Claudia?" an uncertain voice inquired.

I froze. That voice, whether weak or strong, was unmistakable. Kristy's mouth was open in shock.

Very slowly, I turned my head. There, behind me, stood Mary Anne. Her face was drained of colour, her eyes were weary, and she was standing with her shoulders hunched. She looked about two inches tall, and severely lacking in spirit.

I had no idea what to say. I had no idea what to do.

Feeling as if I owed her too much to ever put into words, I suddenly fell to the grass and put my head down in front of Mary Anne's feet.

"I was such a bitch," I murmured pleadingly, looking up at her.

Mary Anne was visibly taken aback, and she stepped backwards hurriedly, fright in her eyes.

Kristy kneeled down and pulled me back up by the waist.

"Why the hell did you do that?" she hissed, her head cocked so Mary Anne wouldn't hear.

I shrugged, unsettled.

"Claudia, you should probably go straight home," Mary Anne told me, her voice sounding stronger. "Kristy, could you take her home – you haven't been drinking have you? Oh okay, great. Umm, and I think someone called the police so everyone is going home anyway. Maybe I'll see you guys around."

Hearing the courage in Mary Anne's speech, I found the strength to speak back to her.

"Mary Anne, are you all right now? Did the fall hurt your head?" I asked her, my voice little more than a squeak.

She nodded weakly, and attempted to stand up straighter.

"Yes, Claudia, I'm fine now. It was just a little faint – I was feeling slightly dizzy while speaking to you. Logan's little cameo didn't help at all," she assured me confidently, grinning slightly.

I nodded back at her, feeling the guilt and humiliation of that night come flooding back. I ducked my head and mumbled a thank you and goodbye, before walking back towards the front yard. Kristy offered more upbeat words of parting and followed behind me. I saw Stacey through the corner of my eye as we left, picking up stray cups and damp streamers. I offered a timid wave and half a smile in her direction. Kristy yelled a goodbye, and we kept on walking. She came jogging up to us though, so we slowed down.

"Yo kiddies," she grinned ruefully. "What a night, hey?"

"Too much fun, Stace," Kristy attempted to laugh.

"Do you want any help cleaning up?" I asked her, trying to be polite. "I could do this rubbish with you."

"No, no, don't worry about it! Mary Anne and I do this all the time, it's kind of like a ritual," she fussed, accentuating her words with her hands. "Anyway, I just wanted to say... despite all the stuff that's happened, and the fact that we're not friends anymore, it was great to see you guys around. I'm going to spend all summer in New York, with my dad, so I thought I should tell you this before things go back to normal. I don't know if we'll ever be like we were back in middle school – or even ninth grade, but there's no need to be hating, a'ight? Even if I don't speak to either of you again, and come across as a bitch back in school, remember that I won't ever forget that you guys were my first friends in this god-forsaken town."

Stacey's words took me by surprise, and they went right down to the soft place in my chest. Despite the sincerity of her words however, her face and eyes were just as poised and unrelenting as ever. She was flawless, but she was porcelain. It was too difficult to see beneath her surface. It only came out in her words.

Flustered, yet pleased, Kristy and I bade her goodbye and moved towards the pavement.

When we got to the car, I opened the passenger door and threw Kristy the keys. Sitting down and pulling the door shut, I buried my head in my hands. Kristy got into the driver's seat, and started the car. I wondered why she hadn't had any alcohol. Then I remembered that she had barely been inside with Pete for ten minutes, when she had come rushing out to save me from the high school hordes. I probably hadn't deserved to be saved. As she drove down the street, I turned to her and mumbled an apology for ruining her time with Pete. She mumbled something non-committal back. I turned to my own window, and watched the black streets and patches of illuminated pavement pass us by.

My thoughts wandered back to Mary Anne. I remembered that she had forgiven me. I was forgiven. The heavy weight of that sin - the sin I had been silently carrying for two years - was now gone.

Despite myself, I rested my head against the window and smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

_Apologies for the long wait. Thank you for the reviews. Unfortunately, from now on, I will continue updating less frequently._

**Chapter 7**

It was barely 10pm when Kristy stopped in front of my house. I gave her a weak smile before I opened the door and stepped out of her car, being careful not to let the door scrape against the pavement as I pushed it shut.

I stepped back, and Kristy's gleaming BMW sauntered off towards the opposite end of town.

I looked around my tiny street. The Perkins' house was illuminated with a warm orange glow from three of their front windows. On the second floor, I noticed the purple print of five year old Gabbie's curtains being pulled shut, and the faint light in her room switched off. A long time ago, that had been Charlie Thomas' window. I closed my eyes and tried to remember what it had looked like. A vague image of blue curtains with baseball motifs floated in my mind. I wasn't sure if I had just created that image based on what I knew of the family, or whether it really had been like that.

Next to the Perkins' house was the Hobarts'. All of their front lights were off, and the house seemed to disappear into small-town darkness. I supposed that the family was gathered on the back porch, possibly eating the left-overs of a late barbeque. It seemed fitting that the house was dark, because, even when the Spiers' had lived in it, it had always seemed lifeless and gloomy. Kristy and I would run inside and yell and shriek, in what I supposed had been an unconscious childish effort to make the place more homely for the time we were in there. We never used to stay there long though. We used to burst into Mary Anne's pink room, pull her down the stairs and out the door, and into one of our own houses.

A small smile crept onto my face, and I let it linger there, feeling the soft warmth of childhood memories loosen up the stiffness in my shoulders. I turned around and slowly walked back towards my house.

My parents and Janine were lazily gathered in the lounge when I came in, playing a game of _Scrabble_. They all turned to look over at me.

"Would you like join us, sweetie?" asked Dad, at the same time that Mum said "How was the party?"

"It was fun, actually. And no thanks dad, I think I'm going to change and get to bed," I replied.

The three of them nodded, bid me goodnight, and shifted their focus back to the green game board. When I was upstairs in my room, I peeled off the chiffon dress, which was by this time clammy with the sweat of a mid-summer's evening. I threw it into a corner and padded into the bathroom across the hall. I stepped into the shower and let the warm spray drum against my skin. I leaned back against the cool tiles and closed my eyes.

I felt as if all the guilt of the past two years were being washed away. I didn't move for a long time. I didn't think about anything either. I just let the images of Mary Anne, Kristy and I float around in my head, to the tempo of the shower spray. For the first time in a long, long time I felt as if I might be a kid again, skipping around my backyard with the two girls I had known for my entire life.

* * *

The next morning was Sunday. I had slept peacefully, and woke up with dappled sunlight softly warming my face. I pushed off my sheets, and stretched my arms and legs. On the wall opposite my bed, a portrait of Mimi that I had made in eighth grade smiled down at me. Somehow, I knew that she was pleased with me this morning. I felt as if her brown eyes were sparkling.

If she had been able to speak to me, I am sure she would have said "I am glad you have spoken to our Mary Anne, my Claudia." Mimi had loved Mary Anne almost as much as she had loved me. She would have been devastated had she known that we were no longer friends. But, that morning I believed she would have been happy that things were possibly becoming better.

I felt a stab of guilt in chest as I recalled what I done to Mary Anne, but the pain subsided quickly. I suddenly realised that I had to go and visit Mimi today. In order to feel some sort of closure, I had to go and speak to the one person who belonged to both Mary Anne and I.

I stepped out of my bed, and threw a single white sheet over it. I smoothed down the sides of my bed in a mediocre attempt to make it. I heard a knock at my door, followed by Janine's call to breakfast.

Downstairs, my parents and sister were already seated. They looked up and smiled at me. I noticed that my plate was loaded with five pancakes, cream and maple syrup – while everybody else was eating brown toast and jam. I rolled my eyes, and sat down.

"Did you guys make pancakes especially for me?" I asked doubtfully.

"We didn't want you not to enjoy the meal, Claudia," replied Mom.

I smiled, and spooned a large forkful of pancake into my mouth.

"What are everybody's plans for today?" asked Dad.

I wasn't certain whether I should tell my family that I was going to the cemetery. I was a little afraid that Janine would offer to come and ruin my personal time with Mimi. I was also wary that Mom might think something was wrong, and ask me. I didn't think that it would be possible for me to explain everything that I was feeling today.

After Janine had told Dad that she was visiting some old friends in Stamford, Dad turned to me.

"I think I'll go to Kristy's, maybe," I replied quickly, and spooned in some more pancake.

My parents looked pleased with this suggestion. I could tell that they had been worried and disappointed when I had stopped hanging around with her and the other girls.

I rushed back upstairs after breakfast to get ready. After washing my face and brushing my teeth; I slipped into a white kaftan and purple shorts. I rummaged around in my drawer and found a bracelet that had belonged to Mimi. Although it was expensive, I wrapped it around my wrist.

I hadn't been to the cemetery in about six months. The last time had been midway through junior year, when Peaches, Russ and my little cousin Lynn had come to visit. Although, Lynn had been only three years old, Peaches had thought that it was the right time for her to visit her grandmother's grave. I had taken her.

I thought about this as I made my way downstairs, and out the door. I walked over to my car, parked outside the garage. My car was nothing compared to Kristy's BMW – it was only a 1986 Commodore. But I had painted it a gleaming dark purple, and decorated the inside with indigo-coloured seat covers and padding. It was my constant companion, and over the past year, I had been treating it like a very close friend.

When I arrived at the cemetery, I noticed that there were quite a few cars parked around it. I supposed that was because it was Sunday. I stopped my car a fair way from the towering black gates. Suddenly, I was very anxious to get to Mimi, and so I rushed out of my car and ran towards the gate. I kept running right through it, and past the graves, eventually slowing down to a walk.

As I approached Mimi's grave, I noticed something odd. There seemed to be something resting in the centre of grave, inside the square bed of flowers. My first thought was that a bird had died and fallen from the willow tree, but as I came even closer, I saw that it was actually a large bouquet of garden flowers.

I ran to the grave, and bent down to see the bouquet. The yellow and blue flowers looked fresh, as if they had been picked an hour or so ago. I took in a deep breath, and nearly fell over backwards. The scent was almost exactly like the scent of Mimi. That distinct, Oriental, flowery smell; which I had smelt every time I had sat with her, hugged her, and made tea with her. Even in her dying days, Mimi had never stopped smelling that same way. I felt tears prick the sides of my eyes, and blinked to let them fall out.

I wondered vaguely about who could have left these flowers here, but I was quickly being taken up into what felt a cloud of reminiscence.

"Oh Mimi," I whispered, falling into a heap in front of her tombstone.

I leaned over and picked up two of the flowers. I tied the long thin stalks around my wrist, next to the bracelet. Then I let my face fall into my hands, and wept. I didn't know what I weeping for, but just being here with that overwhelming scent of Mimi made me feel helpless. I felt as if everything that had ever mattered in my life was here at Mimi's grave, but I could never have it, because I had lost it all when I was thirteen years old.

I wept for a long time. I knew in the back of my mind that I should leave, but I couldn't bring myself to move from this spot.

After a long while, I heard footsteps approaching me, and stop behind me. I didn't look up.

"Claudia?" whispered a quiet, unsure voice.

My shoulders tensed, and I gasped. I felt a small hand touch my left shoulder, and then a person sit down next to me. I dropped my hands from my face, and turned to look. Mary Anne sat next to me, her head hanging low, her hair in her face, and tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

My voice shaking, I asked her "Did you put these flowers here?"

She nodded slightly, without looking up.

I sobbed again, and more tears spilled out. I kept on crying and put my arm around her.

"Thank you," I wept, in a tiny whisper. "Thank you so much."

Mary Anne turned towards me and wrapped both her arms around me.

"What's happened to us, Claudia? Why did we go through all this?" she cried. "Remember… remember in first grade… I was too scared to bring my dad to the Mothers' Day tea… and you – you let me bring your own Mimi instead."

Mary Anne's words dissolved into sobs, and I couldn't control my own tears enough to reply. But the memory of that tea party, ten years ago, when little Mary Anne had so agonised over not having a mother, and when Kristy and I had done everything in our six-year-old power to help and defend her, was clear in my mind.

Mary Anne's grip tightened around my neck, and she began speaking again between sobs.

"I keep thinking, when I'm alone in my room… I keep remembering those days so long ago. They seem like ten lifetimes away… I feel like there's mountains and rivers, and storms behind me. Things – things that I'll never be able to pass. I'll – I'll never be able to go back. I keep wanting to. But I can't, Claudia. I can never go back. I will never be small, and shy – and… and scared again."

Somehow, I understood what Mary Anne meant. And I knew that it was all my fault that Mary Anne felt that there a high stone wall between herself and her childhood. And I understood her need for the peace that we had felt, the happiness which rested within our little bodies day after day, without us even noticing it. Those days, the summers had been wonderful long dreams. Kristy and I would skip across my backyard, calling "Summer! Summer! We're free! We're free!" And Mary Anne would laugh happily while we danced around her.

After a while, Mary Anne moved her thin arms from around my neck, and shuffled away. She stood up, and I watched her smooth away the dirt from her white cotton dress. She looked so small, so beautiful. And so fragile.

She rummaged in her purse for some tissues, and carefully wiped her eyes and cheeks, and blew her nose. Then she turned and began walking away.

I didn't want her to go.

But I didn't know how to stop her either. Suddenly, I realised that the loss of this friendship was going to be a very difficult thing for me to make right. Although Mary Anne had forgiven me, she had not forgotten, and she never would.

We weren't the same girls anymore.

So I just watched powerlessly as her skinny frame disappeared into the green, leafy distance.

I was not sure what to do now. I opened my purse and found an old croqueted handkerchief. I used it to wipe away the tears, and clear my nose. Then I scrunched it up and put it back.

I looked down at the flowers.

"Goodbye, Mimi," I murmured.

I had told my parents that I would be at Kristy's. Feeling as if I was in some kind of trance, I got up and made my way out of the cemetery to my car. I drove slowly to Kristy's end of town, barely noticing the streets or the houses. When I finally pulled up on McClelland Road, I was surprised, and wondered briefly how I had made my way there.

"Claudia!"

I turned to see Karen sitting in the vast front yard, next to her friend Hannie. Karen was braiding Hannie's hair. Behind them, I noticed David Michael approaching. He plopped down next to Karen, and handed the girls two ice cream cones.

"Hi Karen!" I called back. "Hi David Michael, hi Hannie! Is Kristy home?"

"Yeah, she is," they yelled back.

I noticed David Michael turn to Karen and whisper something seriously. Karen's eyes grew wide, and she put an arm around her brother. It struck me again how close the two had become. In such a large family as the Thomas-Brewers, the two had found in each other a little niche and fit together perfectly. Hannie stood up, waved goodbye to the other two, and started jogging back home. Karen and David Michael put their heads closer together and engaged themselves in what appeared to be and very grim discussion.

I got out of my car, and walked up the long, meandering front path. As I passed the two, Karen nodded at me solemnly, but David Michael did not turn to acknowledge me. I thought I saw him quickly wipe at his eyes. I wondered what was going on. What had made these sixth-graders so serious?

The front door was opened for me by Andrew. He shut the door behind me, and wrapped him arms around my torso.

"What's up Andrew?" I asked him, surprised. I ruffled his brown hair, and tilted his face to look up at mine.

"Everybody is sad," he informed me quietly.

Just as he said those words, I heard footsteps clatter across the hall. I looked up, to see a girl in short-shorts storming in. She wasn't looking this way - she was turned back towards the hallway from which she had come.

"There is no way, Watson! No bloody way!' she shrieked. "I am never speaking to him again, and you can't make me!"

Andrew clutched at my jeans in fear.

Kristy swerved around, and stopped dead when she caught sight of me. I saw that her eyes were red as if she'd been crying, but her face seemed to be set in stone. Her shoulders and arms were tense. She had all her defences up.

"Ughhh," she groaned. Then she stopped herself, and took a deep breath in. She let it out slowly. "Claud, good to see you. But, now is really not a good time. We're having a crisis of sorts. I'm sorry – but I can't be civil right now."

"Uh, that's okay Kristy," I murmured, feeling inadequate, and cursing myself for having come without notice. "I'll just leave. See you later."

She just nodded stiffly, and turned to go up the winding staircase.

Just as I was about to pry Andrew off me, and move towards the door; the doorbell rang. Andrew quickly let go of me, and flung the door open eagerly.

For the second time that day, I gasped.

Standing on the porch, looking very calm, was Mary Anne.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Behind me, Kristy dropped her cell phone. It clattered to the tiles, and I heard it smash into pieces. I didn't turn around though. I stood frozen, with my mouth still slightly ajar. Recently Mary Anne had been having this effect on me.

Andrew was the first one to speak.

"Hi!" he said, brightly. "Are you one of Kristy's friends?"

Mary Anne blinked, and then smiled. Her smile looked rather sad to me. She bent down and brought her face level with Andrew's.

"I'm Mary Anne. Don't you remember me? I used to come here all the time."

Andrew shook his head, and said "I don't know. Maybe…"

Mary Anne looked disappointed, but she straightened up and gave Andrew a gentle hug anyway. Now she looked up past my head, towards Kristy. Blinking, I followed her gaze and turned over my shoulder. Kristy was crouched on the floor, picking up the pieces of her phone, and trying to put them together again. Her hair fell over her face, so that I couldn't see her expression. I turned back to Mary Anne. She was still not looking at me.

Mary Anne shut the door softly behind her, and I noticed that she was clutching a small foil-wrapped bowl in her right arm, holding it against her torso. She turned to Andrew again, who was standing between the two of us, looking slightly bewildered.

"Andrew, do you know if your stepmom's home?" she asked him.

He nodded.

"Then would you possibly be able to do me a big, big favour? Would you let her know that I'd like to see her?"

I briefly wondered why Mary Anne needed to see Mrs Brewer. As Andrew scampered off towards the stairs, Kristy looked up from her place on the floor and said,

"Why are you here Mary Anne?" she sounded tired, as if acknowledging Mary Anne was an unwanted civility.

Before Mary Anne could reply, the front door flew open behind her and she toppled over sideways. As I moved to steady her, Karen and David Michael ran in. David Michael's face was stained with tears, his dark hair was messily arranged around his eyes so that I couldn't see them. Karen was holding on tightly to his hand, her blue eyes wide and serious.

David Michael let go of Karen's hand, and sprinted towards Kristy. Kristy held her out her arms, and her brother fell into them. To the three of us standing near the door, they were a heap of clothing and dark hair.

What on earth was going on?

I heard Karen sigh next to me. I was standing between Karen and Mary Anne. Together, I felt as if we were a line of army troops. But we had nothing to say to each other, nothing to loosely string us together. The three of us were out of place together, and out of place in this mansion. This situation was so bizarre.

I turned away from Kristy and David Michael, feeling as if I was intruding upon something very personal. I was beginning to recall a day two years ago, when Kristy and I had accidentally bumped into an unexpected visitor to Stoneybrook. Somehow, I knew that the events of this moment were related to that day.

I didn't want to know this though. These weren't my secrets to know.

The muffled whimpers and sobs from Kristy and her brother floated about the room.

Andrew hurried into the foyer waving his arms when he caught sight of Mary Anne, followed closely by Mrs Brewer. When their gaze floated to the two on the floor, they looked around, bewilderment slowly rising on their faces. Mrs Brewer quickened her pace, and came over to the three of us first.

"Claudia, Mary Anne, it's wonderful to see you girls," her arms embraced the two of us lightly, and I felt as if she were gathering us together. Mary Anne and I became muffled in each others' and Mrs Brewer's clothes as she held us together and began manoeuvring us towards the kitchen. We followed obediently. Everybody's scents wafted together and hung at the tip of my nose. I heard Karen briskly fall into step behind us, with Andrew at her side.

"It's good to see you too," Mary Anne replied, her voice muffled.

A great bubble of bewilderment was rising inside my chest. Suddenly I felt like I wasn't really awake. I blinked purposefully twice in a row. The same red walls of the Brewer Thomas mansion met my eyes when I opened them. My ears began ringing. I looked over at Mary Anne on my right. Her hair was falling over her face, and her eyes looked unfocused. For whatever reasons the two of us had ended up in this house, neither of us had expected this.

Mrs Brewer let us go when the gleaming utensils which hung over the kitchen counter came into view. Slowly we unravelled ourselves from each other, and stood awkwardly in a triangle, the white space between us glaring in the fluorescent lights. My eyes immediately dropped to the tiles beneath my feet. I knew that I should be saying something. But the truth was, I didn't know why I was here. The slow, dream-like way I had driven here played in my mind.

Mary Anne spoke first.

"Mrs Thomas, I brought you an applesauce cake."

My head snapped up.

Mary Anne had called Kristy's mom Mrs Thomas – something I hadn't done since seventh grade. The way in which Mary Anne said it brought back vivid images of Kristy's old house. My head spun for a minute recalling the papered walls, cluttered wooden floors and big bright curtains. Something in my chest seemed to squeeze. I hated nostalgia.

Mrs Brewer tried to smile, and fell short. It made me feel sad. But she took long steps to Mary Anne and wrapped her arms around her. The two of them held each other close, and became a mix of clothes and arms and shiny brown hair. The foil-wrapped bowl of applesauce cake dangled from Mary Anne's right hand. I shifted my feet uncomfortably. I couldn't bring myself to keep looking at them – the emotion was engulfing the space that held them and spreading to me. I felt the hairs on my arms waver on end.

They let go of one another.

"You were like a second mother to me," I heard Mary Anne say. "I know you liked my… real mom's applesauce. She liked you a lot."

Is this why Mary Anne had come? I knew that applesauce cake had been Mary Anne's mother's special recipe, but it seemed strange. She had come to Kristy's house after two years.

But Mrs Brewer seemed to understand. When I finally looked back at them, she was nodding seriously. Mary Anne was smiling. I felt like an intruder. Why had I come?

"Why don't you girls help yourselves to some lunch," suggested Mrs Brewer, gesturing towards the large, stainless steel fridge. "Karen can help you make sandwiches."

Karen, standing behind Mary Anne, nodded, and her fluffy blonde hair bounced softly. She began making her way towards the fridge.

"Come on Claudia… Mary Anne. We've got some really yummy pieces of tandoori chicken. My mom and I made them, and I brought them here to share. They're not so bad," Karen's bold voice shifted the mood of the room noticeably. I finally managed a grin and followed her. Mrs Brewer smiled too, and I felt as if the smothering tightness in the air was dissipating.

'Keep Andrew with you," Mrs Brewer murmured, before she hurried out of the kitchen. Suddenly, I remembered Kristy and David Michael. My chest tightened slightly.

Karen was collecting jars of mayonnaise and tubs of margarine and arranging them on the counter. I stood next to her at the fridge and pulled out some lettuce and tomatoes from the fruit drawer. Andrew came up behind us and I watched as he reached up to the bottom shelf and excitedly retrieved the large Tupperware container of tandoori chicken. Once all the ingredients were on the counter, Karen took out a pile of bread slices and began buttering them. When had eleven year old Karen Brewer matured? She was clearly aware of the situation with her siblings, and yet she was doing her best to smoothly deal with everybody involved.

For a while I simply stared at her.

"Come on Claudia! Brewer house rules – make your own lunch!" Karen grinned up at me.

"Yeah!" cried Andrew. "No work, no lunch!"

I laughed and got to work spreading mayonnaise and mustard on a piece of white bread. Mary Anne grinned as well, and carefully placed lettuce and chicken on her bread.

"So Karen, how's school?" asked Mary Anne.

"It's fun. But I think they're going to instate compulsory uniform next year. I'm really annoyed about that. Also, Elizabeth said that she's going to put Emily Michelle in my school. And, well, she is _so_ annoying! I don't know _how_ I'll stand her!" Karen embellished this last statement with sweep of her butter knife across the air.

"But you can be the responsible big sister! It'll be fun. Come on, I know Emily. She's great!" I assured her.

"Emily's a pain," whined Andrew. "She eats all of Nannie's butter cookies, and wastes Daddy's time by sitting in his office all day! Karen and I never used to do that!"

"She's only little. I know that Karen used to do a lot of annoying things when _she_ was that age!"

Mary Anne nodded across the counter at us. Karen opened her mouth to reply, and I could see the quick snipe ready behind her blue eyes. Before she could say anything though, David Michael thundered into the kitchen. All four of our heads swiftly turned to him. Bewildered at the sight of so many people, David Michael stopped and froze.

"K-Karen…" he whimpered.

Karen dropped her butter knife and ran over to her brother. She put a protective arm around his shoulders. He hung his head and let his dark curls cover him. She led him carefully to a seat at the counter, and she sat on the stool next to him.

Seeming to forget the presence of the rest of us, David Michael buried his head in his hands.

In a muffled voice he said "I don't know what's going to happen. Sam and Charlie aren't even here – they don't have any idea… and so it's just Kristy. But she's crying and she's screaming. And she says she hates him and never wants to speak to him again and she never wants to see him again. But she's just sad Karen, she - she… she's just sad. She doesn't know what she's saying."

Slowly putting the top slice on my sandwich, I pried my eyes off of him. I looked at Mary Anne. For a moment I met her gaze, but I quickly looked down at the counter again. It was awful to be hearing such personal things. But I didn't know what else to do.

Andrew, looking frightened again, tiptoed to the other side of the counter and climbed onto the seat next to his sister.

"Is he really in town?" asked Karen.

"Yeah," David Michael's answer was short, as if something had caught in his throat. I looked up. His head was still buried in his hands. Karen sat helplessly next to him, her shoulders drooped. She looked so brave to me. I had never seen this much courage in such a little person.

She looked back up at me, her eyes defeated. I saw her shoulders shrug weakly.

I began eating my sandwich quickly. I realised that I needed to get out of this house. I was nobody in the midst of these family matters, and I did not deserve to be anybody either. Mary Anne walked over to the trashcan, and dropped the remainder of her floppy sandwich into it. Suddenly, I wasn't hungry either. But I knew it would hurt Karen's feelings if I didn't eat mine, so I swallowed every bite as quickly as I could. I looked over at Andrew, to see if he had eaten his. It remained untouched on the gleaming, grey bench top in front of him.

I sighed. It was not my duty to make sure Andrew ate his lunch.

"Karen, I think I'll go now," I addressed her with as a loose a smile as I could muster. "Thanks for the tandoori. It was truly delicious."

"That's cool, Claudia. Thanks for coming," she replied solemnly. "…Are you going too, Mary Anne?"

Mary Anne came up next to me and nodded. Karen Brewer was the only sane person left in this mansion.

I started to leave towards the backyard, in order to avoid the drama in the front hall; but Mary Anne grabbed my wrist. I stopped and turned, slightly annoyed. She let go immediately and looked away.

"We can't go the back way, Claudia. They've built that security fence around the sides, remember?" she told me, her voice suddenly cold.

I nodded, and followed her out into the hallway, leaving the three kids alone behind us. The air felt very heavy above my head again. I imagined the scene in the front hallway, and shivered. I fell into step behind Mary Anne and tried to cower behind her slightly built frame, in order to shield myself from whatever was on the other side of this hallway. As the grand, winding staircase came into view, Mary Anne slowed down. I peered cautiously over her shoulder.

There was nobody there, except Kristy, curled into a ball in the middle of the hall. She looked so small on the backdrop of the staircase and towering red walls.

"Let's just tiptoe past her," I whispered to back of Mary Anne's head. But she slowly moved her head from left to right. _No_, she was telling me. Before I could protest, she had begun making her way straight to Kristy. I bit my lip, knowing in my heart, that Kristy was in no position for outside company. After all I had been through this before.

Mary Anne plopped down next to Kristy. Kristy did not move. Her head lay buried in the chasm between her knees. To my complete shock, Mary Anne smoothed down her cotton dress, took a deep breath, and tentatively put an arm around her shoulders. I simply stood in my position and watched.

Why was it that everybody else received the attention that I so desperately craved?

My skin prickled with jealousy, especially when I recalled what Kristy's reaction had been to my offering of consolation two years ago. In front of me, I noticed Kristy's shoulders loosen and shake, and Mary Anne tightened her grip around them. The surrealism of the situation did not escape me, and I wondered for a moment whether I really was standing in the Brewer front hall.

And then, without knowing what I was doing, I let my feet lead me to the two on the floor. Mary Anne looked up at me briefly, and then let her gaze flicker away. I lowered myself down on the other side of Kristy, feeling the warmth of her body and coolness of the tiles. A soft, scented breeze hovered past us.

"Thank you."

Kristy's heavy whisper silently drifted away with the breeze. I closed my eyes and saw behind my eyelids the image of the three of us sitting together at that moment. And I felt the silky ropes which we had lost on Bradford Court begin to flicker into existence around us again.


End file.
